


In The Valley of The Shadow

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-29
Updated: 2005-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the skies are raining fire and the world is going to Hell, Cordelia isn’t the only one making mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Valley of The Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Spoilers: Rain of Fire.

 

*~*~*~*

I wanted him.

It came over me in a blinding rush. Unexpected. All consuming. When I found him sitting, battered and worn, in the waiting room of the ER, a mass of humanity teaming around him, the world going to hell in a hand basket. He was tired, his cheeks stubble-covered, his blue eyes clouded with pain, dark shadows dusted beneath them. Slumped in a plastic chair, he looked up when I rushed into the room, balls of fire still streaming through the pitch of the sky as the doors swung shut behind me. People crying out in fear in the streets….

And I wanted him.

He looked surprised. The last time he saw me my throat was pierced and I was hurled off a forty-story building. That was enough to convince anyone you were gone for good. Now, I knew how he felt all those lonely months ago, his life’s essence pouring from his throat onto the ground. His soul yearning for the love of companions who never came…

Gazing through a window and finding the woman you love more than life itself in the arms of another man…Nay, a boy, a mere child.

*‘You think she’s safe with him?’*

“Angel?” His blue eyes widened in surprise…and something else I couldn’t quite define. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

“But Gunn…he…” His eyes flittered toward the swinging doors in the distance, the rush of overworked, distraught personnel, rushing in and out.

“I *need* to get out of this damned place.” 

Before he could protest, I lunged forward, grabbed his arm, and hauled him to his feet. He stared in shock as I pulled him toward the exit. “Angel, I really should stay. We both should. It’s the proper thing to do.”

“Wesley.” I turned and looked him full in the face, traced the world-weary lines and the shadows darkening his eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”

He gasped and I dragged him past the throngs of humans seeking solace and aid from equally confused medical personnel and into the crowded streets.

I could feel the flutter of his heart as we pushed into the wave of humanity teaming past us, and my eyes darted toward a darkened alley, to a dumpster in a deserted corner cast in shadows, and my first impulse was to head in that direction.

I drew an unneeded breath into my lungs and quelled the desire.

I couldn’t very well take him in an alley while the world fell down around our ears…

Or could I?

“Angel?”

I grabbed his suede-clad arm and held tight as the crowd jostled past, trying to push into the ER and away from the fire still dropping from the skies. Confusion poured off the man in waves. The scent of his blood mingled with sweat and lingered in the air, taunting me.

The alley beckoned.

I resisted the urge and flagged down a taxi, surprised one actually stopped in the mayhem and headed for the hotel. 

I made it as far as the lobby, deserted, cold and empty as we pushed through the doors and they flew shut behind us, leaving the madness behind.

“Angel, what the hell is all this--” He began and my arms were around him, pulling him close. His eyes flew wide and he pushed against my chest. “What the devil are you doing?”

I tightened my hold and he trembled against me. “It’s all right,” I breathed. But his body was stiff and unrelenting. A hint of fear wafted through the air and it dawned on me, aside from when he opened a vein for me, the last time I touched Wes was when I tried to smother him. That image burned across my senses and I swallowed hard, forcing down the memory of a hospital room. A pale, thin figure wrapped in sheets. A pillow. “It’s all right,” I repeated. “Like I said, you and me, we’re okay.”

“Okay.” The word was flat, without inflection, neither a question nor a statement, just a word that hung in the air between us. 

I tightened my arm around his waist, pulling him flush against me, relishing the warmth as it burned through the layers of clothes between us, the denim, the cotton, the suede. “Yeah, we’re okay. The way things could have gone. The way they went…it’s behind us now.”

“So good of you to inform me.”

I pulled back and met his eyes, finding it strange, this lack of glasses he’d adopted these past few months. “Don’t tell me you sold your soul to the devil for perfect vision.” I offered him a smile to ease the moment.

“They’re called contact lenses.”

“Oh…well…of course.” I shrugged. “You know me. Kinda slow when it comes to these modern devices.”

“Modern as in having been invented in the last one hundred years. I can certainly understand why you’d be confused.”

His expression was guarded and unrevealing, his back stiff beneath my touch and suddenly I wanted him even more. Wanted to melt the icy resolve that hardened his face. I caught a whiff of the blood he so freely shared with me after months of starvation and a wave of dizziness washed over me.

“Angel, we shouldn’t have left the A&E without knowing--”

I pulled him into my arms and sought his lips.

He jerked free….

And a rain of brimstone fell from the sky, pelting the ground outside, bouncing against the windows and shattering the lobby doors. Wesley jumped and a less than manly squeal escaped his lips. His cheeks blazed and he averted his eyes.

“The world’s gone to hell,” I murmured.

“Can’t say I’ve seen worse.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking the image of the woman I loved wrapped in the arms of my son. “I have,” I whispered.

He frowned and stepped close, seeing the pain in my face that I tried to hide. Another shower of fire hit the shattered doors, raining onto the lobby floor. But his eyes, locked with mine, never faltered. “Angel, are you all right?”

I nodded…

And crushed him into my arms.

A torrent of rain hit the windows, a cacophony of sound roaring around us, rising to mingle with the sudden racing of his heart. He stiffened and tried to pull free but I held fast, devouring his mouth, nibbling and teasing his lips until a sigh escaped and they parted, allowing my tongue to plunge beyond the straight white teeth into the smoldering depths of his mouth. I stroked the rough texture of his tongue with my own, relished the flavor of Bergamot that lingered on his breath. So very Wesley. He gasped and slowly began to return the kiss, cautiously at first, his mouth moving gently against mine, tasting my lips, warming them with his own, then more aggressively as my hands rose up to grasp the back of his head, holding fast, our mouths locked in a passionate embrace. His tongue met mine, plunged deep into my mouth and I shuddered. Wesley was a damn good kisser. I never would have guessed.

The rhythm of his heart filled my senses, calling to the demon within my chest that felt the rush of vibrant blood coursing though his veins. The fragrance caused my head to spin, and his lips working against mine were maddening. His tongue probed deeply into my mouth, slipping between my lips then flicking out and tracing the contours of my mouth, then thrusting deep again. In and out. Building a sensuous rhythm he broke only to catch a much-needed breath, before plunging again. His breath grew ragged and his heart fluttered in his chest pressed firmly against my own. My arms slipped around his shoulders, my fingers clutching into the suede of his jacket, pulling him closer, my mouth fighting to consume his lips working wonders against my own. My tongue slipped into the warmth and slowly, firmly, Wesley began to suck.

Tingles coursed through me and I gasped as he pulled me deep into his throat, tremors pulsing through his body pressed against me. Suddenly, I realized I could kiss this man for hours. My hands stroked down his back, coming to rest against the leather of his belt at the waist of his jeans. I gripped it tightly, shoved him close and ground my hips against his as I deepened the kiss. He gasped in surprise and froze, his eyes wide, before returning the thrust with an aggressive grind of his own. He rubbed the denim-clad swell of his erection against me and I realized I was growing hard. 

The scent of his arousal rose to fill the air and my nostrils flared. It mingled with the heady aroma of his blood and the sweat that glistened across his skin. I left his lips and he moaned as I traced a trail over the sheen of his skin to the hollow of his throat and lightly sucked. He shuddered and dropped his head back, baring the tender flesh to my probing mouth. Gently I grazed the stubble-covered skin with my teeth and he gasped, his knees almost buckling beneath him. I caught his lanky frame; my arm dropped low into the small of his back, holding him upright, and gently sucked the skin, tasting its exquisite texture. I never dreamed the ex-watcher’s flavor would be so tantalizing to my tongue, to my teeth. I laved the flesh, working my way around to the delicate trace of the scar that glared from the pale white skin, accusing yet taunting me with its rhythmic pulse. I nibbled the flesh and he quivered beneath my touch, then surprised me by wrapping his arms around my waist and arching his hips, stroking his erection against my own. 

His eyes, pale blue and glazed, opened to meet mine and he choked. “Angel, I don’t know what you intend to accomplish by--” 

I crushed my lips to his and ground against him, denim straining against denim. I wanted him. I wanted to forget and yet remember all at the same time. The lobby was vast and empty around us, reminding me of all I’d lost, the years I fought to forge the bonds of family that melded my life into something that had meaning. Real meaning, beyond simply the mission. Family. 

Gone. 

I wanted it back.

I crushed the ex-watcher into my embrace, claimed his lips and writhed against him, absorbing the sounds of his gasps that filled my mouth as he lost himself to the growing passion that confused yet consumed him. 

His long, graceful fingers wove into my hair; he gripped tightly and hissed against my lips. “I can’t imagine where you think you’re going with this….” He fought to catch his breath. “But I can scarcely tolerate another second. *Please.*”

“This… this is where I want to take this.” I swept my hands beneath his jacket, pushed the suede aside and slid to the burning warmth of his flesh beneath the cotton of his shirt. He pulled in his breath with a hiss as cool fingers stroked across his skin, sought his chest and gently began to knead his nipples. His body jerked. A smile weaved over my lips. He was sensitive, very, very sensitive and responsive. “Like that, do ya?”

“Yes.”

I pushed his jacket aside, drew it down his arms and tossed it across the lobby to the floor. He looked surprised and turned to stare at the crumpled garment resting on the tile, then back to search my face. His brow creased in a frown of confusion that slowly smoothed and softened as I reached for the buttons of his shirt and one-by-one unfastened them, pulling it aside and tossing it to join the ever-growing pile. The cool air of the open room rushed over his flesh, causing the skin to dimple and his nipples to harden and rise. I wrapped my arm around the small of his back, drew him near and dipped my head, pressing my lips to the warmth of his chest, teasing a nipple and enjoying the swell as it hardened beneath my mouth. His body shuddered and he gasped, grinding his hips into mine. I worked the nipple, gently at first then deeply, aggressively, as the thrust of his hips and the low guttural sound of his moans pulled me under.

“Angel…please. We shouldn’t. We mustn’t…” The words tore from his lips. “The curse…” He swallowed hard. “We can’t be certain what might trigger it.”

“True. But we can be certain what won’t.” I grabbed his belt and pulled him against me, ground my erection into his, sighing as he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned my name. I reached for the buckle, unfastened and began to pull it through the loop of his jeans but he stayed my hand. His eyes, clouded and glazed, met mine. “Wes….let go.”

“Angel--”

I roughly pulled him to me, dipped my head to his chest and wrapped my lips around one of his marvelous nipples. Sucked. He shuddered as I began to trace a trail of kisses from his chest, slowly, temptingly, across his nipples then downward over the firm muscles of his stomach that quivered beneath my lips as I sank to my knees before the man. 

“My lord,” he gasped in surprise. “You can’t actually mean to…” 

His words dissolved and his knees began to buckle as I pressed my lips against the cock straining the fabric of his jeans, nuzzled it with my cheek, tempted it with my mouth, relishing the burning warmth of human flesh, pulsing with life and the heady scent of male arousal. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on my knees for a man. Why here? Why tonight? As the world fell down around our ears in a blaze of death and destruction taking everything and everyone I loved along with it. I clutched his denim-clad buttocks and buried my face in his crotch, reveling in the sound of the whimpers suddenly torn from his throat and the uncontrolled thrust of his hips as he pushed toward my lips, wanting, needing more.

The scent of Lilah seeped from his pores, it mingled with the wondrous aroma of human, male flesh and the uniqueness that was truly Wesley. The Wesley I’d known all these years, a fundamental part of my family I thought I lost forever.

I ran my tongue over the rough denim, caressed the straining cock that burst against the seams.

“You don’t have to do this,” he rasped, gasping for breath, barely able to stand, his long legs threatening to crumble beneath his weight. “Truly, Angel. I never dreamed…I never expected…”

“I want to do this…and more.” With that I sprang to my feet and gathered his suddenly submissive body close for another deep kiss, consuming his lips before dragging him to the puff sofa and shoving him down, my lips locked against his, strangled whimpers escaping his throat. I loved the sounds torn from his chest. The staid and prissy man I’d known over the years, the cold, distant man he’d become was melting beneath the power of my touch into a quivering mass of hot, mortal need. Sex and the desire for sex consumed most humans, and for the male, once a certain point was reached it was all that mattered. The alpha and the omega of their existence.

Wesley squirmed beneath my lips, fighting to devour my mouth, to suck my tongue deep into his throat as he ground his hips against me, desperate for release. I slipped down and he didn’t protest as I reached for the zipper of his jeans, pulled it down, the sound of metal against metal suddenly the only sound echoing through the lobby, that, and the labored rise and fall of Wesley’s breath. His eyes were wide and unblinking as they watched me. Enthralled. I pushed him back, sank to my knees on the floor between his legs and slightly parted the fabric, buried my face against the pale, white flesh and the nest of darkened curls that peeked out at me. The man wasn’t wearing any underwear. For some reason that made me smile. Wasn’t this the same young man who only several years before was concerned about chafing?

“You find something amusing?” He began.

I silenced him with my lips, burying my face in the curls, inhaling the musky fragrance and kissing the tender flesh, trailing downward as far as the fabric would allow. His breath grew more and more ragged and his body trembled beneath me. “Wes, I need to get these off ya.” I tugged at the jeans, encouraging him to lift his hips.

“Lord, yes.” He hissed, no longer trying to protest as he kicked off his loafers and pealed the jeans from his lanky legs, tossing them aside. Freed from its confines, his cock, gorged with wondrous blood, strained upward against the pale, white skin of his stomach, beckoning to me. I couldn’t remember when I last wanted to take a man’s cock into my mouth. A human man, no less. The warmth, the fragrance, the surge of blood pulsing through the artery that fed the proud organ, was overwhelming, and I caught a breath and dipped my head, ran my tongue slowly over its length. It jumped toward my lips and Wesley cried out, his hips bucking. 

“*Yes*!”

I traced the roughened texture with my tongue, traveling along the vein surging with life, coming to rest at the tip glistening with moisture and took it into my mouth, sucked gently. He seized my head in frustration and groaned, trying to thrust deeper into my mouth. I smiled around the head and continued to tease the tip, sucking harder, enjoying the heat rolling off his body in waves and the sounds emanating from his throat as he trembled. He threw his head back against the sofa; his eyes squeezed shut, a glisten of sweat forming across his upper lip. I rolled my tongue leisurely over the head, grazing it with my teeth and he cried out.

“Damn it, Angel!”

He grabbed my hair with an aggression that surprised me and yanked. I never would have guessed my good and faithful servant could be so sexually demanding. He shoved his hips and I rewarded his frustration by plunging deep, devouring him to the root. 

The air gushed from his lungs in a strangled cry and his body jerked as he thrust his hips, driving his cock to the back of my throat, taking full advantage of his knowledge that I didn’t need to breathe by ramming hard into my mouth with unbridled aggression I never dreamed he possessed. 

“Angel…God…” He hissed, digging his fingers into the back of my neck and holding fast.

His heart fluttered wildly in his chest. I could feel the blood coursing though his veins. I inhaled its fragrance as it mingled with the musk of his flesh pressed urgently against my face as he thrust into my mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat again and again.

His breathing grew erratic and I marveled at the wonder of what it meant to be human. The flesh. The blood. Alive. Digging hard into the pliable flesh, I clutched his hips, knowing he’d be bruised by morning, marked by my passion, by my maddening need to connect to someone alive amidst the mayhem that surround the city. 

Maybe Cordelia felt it too. This overwhelming need to connect to the world of the living in humanity’s darkest moment of despair. 

Wesley plunged and cried out, his body shaking uncontrolled. He screamed out my name in strangled gasps as his moment of release drew near. I allowed my teeth to gently scrape the sensitive flesh as he thrust, and he trembled against me, his nails digging into my neck, his hips bucking.

“*Yes*!” The word tore from his lips as he lunged a final time, shuddered and came, shooting his searing heat into the back of my throat, the warmth burning in the cool depths. I greedily consumed it, licking and lapping for more of his life’s precious fluid, not entirely unlike the blood that raced through his veins. 

He lay spent and panting, his head tossed back against the sofa, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to catch his breath. His heart was beating madly in his chest covered in a fine film of sweat that I suddenly longed to trace with my tongue. He was a beautiful man…

Alive.

Tomorrow we might all be dead but for this glorious moment in time we were both alive. 

Maybe that’s what Cordy felt in the arms of my son?

I squeezed my eyes shut to block the memory and when I opened them Wesley was watching me intently. His eyes, wide and blue, held a curious light. “Why?” He breathed, and I could only shake my head.

A smile crooked the corner of his mouth and he leaned up on his elbows, catching his breath. “I never dreamed. I thought our friendship was dead…much less….” Color blazed his cheeks and he trailed as silence fell around us.

The rain of fire had stopped in the skies outside and the world grew deep and still. My eyes lingered on the shattered lobby doors and the glass strewn across the tile.

“Angel?”

I turned and met his eyes. 

Naked and content, Wesley lay sprawled upon the sofa, the light catching the subtle sheen of moisture glistening his skin. “If you want, I could…” He reached out his hand.

I slowly shook my head. “Let’s not risk it.”

His hand faltered in mid-air and dropped back to the sofa. The light in his eyes slightly wavered…

“You should stay here tonight,” I quickly added and his eyes brightened.

“If you wish.”

“It’s been crazy out there.”

I looked toward the window and the pitch of night beyond, deathly quiet since the Hell-storm passed and I thought of Cordelia lost but not alone in the madness.

As painful as it was for me to accept, maybe the emptiness and fear explained her reaching out to someone close. I understood the desire, the need to connect…to family.

She said she loved me. Maybe in the morning my heart would mend and I could forgive. Maybe there was still hope for our love.

Wesley sat up, his expression more relaxed than I’d seen it in months. “I had no idea how you felt.” He smiled and leaned near, seeking my mouth with his lips….

I offered him my cheek.

 

The End


End file.
